The Hanged Man
by My Misguided Fairytale
Summary: How do you win an unwinnable game? / Protectshipping, Ryou x Honda


The Hanged Man

Genres: Horror, Suspense

Summary: How do you win an unwinnable game? / Protectshipping, Ryou x Honda

A/N: Written for Round Three of the YGO Fanfiction Contest, Season 8 – the pairing is Protectshipping (Ryou x Honda), although the story also includes mild Tendershipping (Ryou x Bakura). This is an AU where there is no magic (no Millennium Items, no reincarnation, etc) but all of that has been replaced by practices and themes of the occult. I also do not profess to have knowledge of any kind about the Japanese school system or how Tarot really works, so a good portion of that (all, really) is fictionalized (and potentially Americanized, in the case of the former). This story also draws on elements from _Slash and Burn_—most notably, the "card graveyard" scenes and setting. This begins early in the series, after Ryou has just transferred, but takes liberties with many other canon elements. Enjoy!

* * *

_I had not thought death had undone so many. – Eliot, _The Waste Land_ (1.63)._

_**The Hanged Man**_

It takes Hiroto Honda a few days to realize that there even _is _a new student at their school—he'd skipped one day and fallen asleep during second period history in the next—but news like _this_ didn't happen often, and consequently, spread quickly.

_He's so strange—did you notice that white hair? Unnatural. Where's he from again? Certainly not Japan. Unnatural. He should go back where he came from—if they'd take him. He doesn't belong here. Unnatural._

It's no surprise to Honda, then, that the new kid shows up at their lunch table one day, led by a happily smiling Yugi. "I invited Bakura, is that ok?"

Their table has an extra chair, almost by magic. Yugi pushes him into it before unpacking his own lunch. Introductions are awkward, and Honda would like nothing better than to talk to Jonouchi about swinging by the game shop after class, but for the sake of Ryou Bakura—such a normal-sounding name, he thinks—they're talking about school, and Domino, and safe topics like the weather. Ryou isn't talking much about his family or his old school, so Yugi fills the emptiness with chatter about Duel Monsters, and when he pulls out his deck Ryou finally shows interest in the paper cards.

"So is it…like Tarot?" He asks, pointing to a card with a castle on it, and another with a soldier. Yugi frowns and shakes his head.

"No, it's Duel Monsters. What's Tarot?"

Ryou turns the soldier around to read its description, before sliding the card back to Yugi with a dissatisfied look on his face.

"In its basest terms, Tarot is a card game. What's Duel Monsters?"

Yugi smiles. "A card game."

A thin, disbelieving smile to match. "Really."

Honda doesn't look at Ryou for the rest of the lunch period. What sort of person's never heard of Duel Monsters? It must be everywhere by now—you'd have to live under a rock not to have heard of it. He doesn't want to believe the rumors about him, but that doesn't change the fact that Ryou is _weird_.

When he gets home, he looks up Tarot on his computer. He doesn't understand it—the images he finds are disturbing and bizarre—but one in particular sticks out to him. Wearing armor on a white horse rides a skeleton—and his name is _Death_.

* * *

Honda wonders again why he hadn't noticed Ryou Bakura sooner—their lockers are one apart. He's exchanging books in-between a class, and there he is, offering Honda a shy smile.

"It's Ryou, right?" Honda knows his name, but it would be impolite not to say something.

"Yes," he answers. His locker closes with a snap.

"History, right?" Honda gestures with one arm towards the open door down the hall. Uniformed students swirl around them, their conversations a disjointed staccato of indistinct words and the rhythm of individual and combined voices.

"Yes." The two begin to walk together. "May I ask you a question, Honda?"

"…Sure," Honda replies.

"Do you believe in magic, Honda?"

"What?" He almost thinks he misheard the question—did _Ryou Bakura _just ask him something about _magic_?

"I said, do you believe in—"

"I heard you! And no, that's ridiculous," Honda answers, cutting him off. "Do I believe that—what, fairies dance around a ring or that making a sacrifice or a wish on something will cause what you want to happen? No. Not at all." He paused. "Do I believe that sometimes strange things happen for no good reason—yes. That's just the way the world works."

"I couldn't agree with you more, Honda."

* * *

It's a strange pattern—every day, without fail, Honda and Ryou happen to meet at their lockers in-between classes and walk to History together. And every day, without fail, Ryou will ask him something unquestionably strange.

"Do you believe that the dead can communicate with us?" He asks.

Honda snorts. "They're dead—if there's no pulse, there's no life. What, do you mean like zombies?"

Ryou laughs—the sound is like a hollow bell. "I suppose I meant spirits. Do you think that the _spirits _of the dead can talk to us?"

"Why would they want to?" Honda can't think of anyone dead he'd like to talk to—except maybe Napoleon, it would sure make his History project a lot easier—and he can't think of anyone dead who'd want to talk to him.

"But what do _you_ think about it?" Ryou is pressing him, with an almost distant sense of desperation in the way he asks. Honda shrugs.

"I _haven't _ever thought about it. I suppose so, if they wanted to." He shrugs again. "How would they do that, anyway?"

"That's the real question, Honda," he says.

* * *

The next day, Ryou is not at his locker—he's not at school at all, and Honda eats his sandwich quietly as Yugi and Jonouchi play a game of Duel Monsters during lunch.

"And then I'll use my Gilford the Lightning—"

"Jonouchi, you ran out of life points in the past turn."

"What? Are you sure?"

Honda and Anzu laugh as Yugi patiently tries to explain his final move to Jonouchi.

"Sometimes it's tough, isn't it?" She asks him, lowering her voice.

"I don't know what you mean," he says.

"Are you sure?" She wipes her mouth with a napkin. "Sure—you play Duel Monsters, too, but we're nowhere near as good as the two of them. I love watching them play the game they love, but I can't help but feel sometimes like we're being left behind…"

"No," Honda responds. "That's not true—I don't believe that. Jou and I are best friends, just like you and Yugi. Nothing can change that."

She nods, giving him a relieved smile. "Thanks…I've been worried. It's good to know I have nothing to fear."

Honda shivers, drawing his jacket closer and pulling his sleeves up to keep his hands warm. The air conditioners in this place must be working overtime—there is no reason for it to be this cold indoors, not when the lazy heat of the outdoor warmth is so nice and comforting.

"That's right," he says.

That afternoon he waits by his locker for an extra five minutes just in case, even though he already knows Ryou won't be there.

* * *

When he next sees Ryou Bakura, he looks even paler and more washed-out than usual, if such a thing were possible. Honda asks him if he's ill; Ryou gives him some specious excuse that Honda doesn't buy for a second.

"Can I trust you, Honda?" He asks. "I want to, but I have to know if I can."

Honda thinks of Jonouchi and Yugi, and how close they have become over their dueling—the least _he_ can do is be a friend for Ryou, no matter what he asks of him. He takes a long time to answer the question—he has a feeling that what Ryou is asking of him isn't a simple matter at all.

"Of course you can trust me. I'm your friend, right?"

"Yes." Ryou smiles. "Would you like to come to my house after school, Honda? There's something I want to show you."

Honda agrees, and the walk is one of the most awkward events of his life—he realizes that he doesn't really know Ryou at all; they have literally _nothing _to talk about and they have _nothing_ in common, but at least Ryou looks happy as they walk the ten minutes to his house, a low, white building set far off the curb. He takes a long time unlocking the front door, but he stands aside to let Honda in first.

The lighting is low, like a bulb has burned out and was never replaced. It strikes him instantly how odd the place looks—his own house looks _lived-in_ in a way that this could never reach—Honda's couch is old and stained from spilled bowls of cereal or glasses of fruit juice. Books, papers, and clothes litter the floors and furniture of Honda's room. Ryou's house just looks…so sterile.

The furniture doesn't look used, the surfaces of the tables and counters unmarred and empty. There's a brick fireplace with a wide hearth, but it looks like it's never been used. It's clean, but seemingly only because there aren't enough things to make it cluttered.

There are so few personal effects in the room that the one photograph sticks out to him like a beacon. "Who's this?"

Ryou approaches the photo with slightly trembling fingers, turning it away from Honda's gaze. "My sister, Amane."

Honda waits for a second—the house felt empty because it _was _empty. "Well, where is she? Are your parents home yet—"

From the look on Ryou's face the truth hits him with the weight of a stack of bricks. "Oh… I mean—I'm sorry."

"Thank you." Ryou's tone is bitingly civil, and it makes Honda flinch as he looks at the picture of the young girl who looks so much like Ryou, yet so different at the same time. "Would you like to talk about it?" He asks.

"The accident happened four months ago," Ryou answered. "A drunk driver hit our car, and she and my mother were lost. And that's…all there is to it."

Honda doesn't believe him—there is _clearly _much more to it than _that_, but he knows that above all else Ryou needs someone to support him through this. _Four months?_ It's no wonder he seems so hollow, Honda realizes, but he tactfully changes the subject. "What was it you wanted to show me?"

"Ah—you see, I've begun a project of my own…you see, I've been communicating with Amane since she…since she…passed on," he chokes over the words. "I write her letters, and I wait for her to communicate _back_ to me…and yesterday, she _did_, Honda. She answered me." Ryou repeats himself often as he rambles, crossing his arms over his stomach as his eyes fall to the floor.

"So what did you need _me_ for?" he asks. A sickening feeling began to grow deep in Honda's stomach, like he didn't know whether to help Ryou or stop him right there.

"I need your help," Ryou whispers. "I can't do it alone—I don't want to be alone. I want Amane. She shouldn't have left me…I want _you _to help me."

"R-Ryou." Honda swallows, glancing down the hallway to the open door where he can see swirls of loose-leaf paper with bunched-together handwriting—_Ryou's _handwriting—littering the floor like snow. _I write her letters…and she answered me_. He shivers—suddenly, the small, spotless room is far too confining and Honda has to remind himself that it's really just the two of them there, with no weighty memories or the promise of spirits to suffocate them.

"Promise me you won't do anything stupid," he says, lifting his eyes from the objects he'd never noticed before—the letters, a funny glass marker and a piece of cardstock lined with the alphabet, the Tarot cards on the top of a glossy black piano—and moves them painfully to gaze into Ryou's. "Whatever it is you're planning, _don't do it_. Don't—I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Honda, I—" Ryou crosses to the piano—the top is polished clean, but the cover for the keys is coated by a thin layer of dust—and flips over the first two cards, revealing the Magician and Temperance. "I can bring her back, Honda, I know I can."

"…How?"

"I know the way." Ryou's determination makes Honda feel even more uneasy and skeptical. "It's only once—we'll bring her back for good."

"I don't think that's a good idea," he says. "_Promise me_ you won't do…_whatever_ it is you're planning."

A very small smile begins to form on Ryou's face. "Do it with me, Honda. Or…would you rather I do it by myself?"

_No. No, Ryou. No. No. No._ Everything inside Honda screams that this is a _very bad idea_ and that he shouldn't even _think _about agreeing to it, and that Ryou needs _help_—but Honda wants to help Ryou so very, very much—and just looking at him makes Honda know that he would never let him be alone again. Ryou has been alone for too long, and Honda will not let that continue, no matter what he has to do. The others—they have never needed him the way that Ryou does.

"Of course I'll help you." He almost hates himself in the instant he says the words. What Ryou is dabbling in—Ryou believes in it so deeply that Honda finds himself considering the possibility, but some things, like these, should never be touched.

"Honda…thank you."

Two words and Ryou's hopeful face made Honda feel like maybe, he did the right thing.

Honda thinks that he doesn't even know what the _right thing_ is, anymore.

* * *

"Where were you yesterday, man?" Jonouchi doesn't sound angry, only curious. "Yugi and I waited for you at the Game Shop, but you never showed up—you should see the new cards I bought!"

"I was just…busy. Errands—I had to go to the store," Honda answers. It's not so much a lie, but Honda doesn't feel like he can tell anyone about his and Ryou's agreement. Who will believe him? What will they say? What can _he _say to explain it?

"Hey—I'll catch you after class, right?"

Honda agrees automatically, watching Ryou enter the classroom from the corner of his vision. He looks much healthier and happier than Honda's ever seen him, but he still feels so divided—to help Ryou, or to forget everything he's seen and learned?

He can do this—for Ryou.

What's the worst that can happen?

* * *

_Dear Amane_ (writes Ryou),

_I miss you so much—I can't believe you're gone. I can't believe you're not here. You won't have to wait for that much longer. I'm coming for you. I promised you that I'd always be here for you, that I'd never leave you. I'm going to summon you—I'll bring you home. We'll be a family again. A complete family. Dad misses you too, I can tell, even if he doesn't say anything._

_Domino isn't so bad. You'll like it, I promise. Everyone I've met here likes games, which is good because I like games, too. You'd really like Honda. He'll be helping us—I told you about him in my last letter, remember? He's very special to me, as are you. _

_I don't know what you meant in your last message. You only ever tell me one word—'escape.' What do you mean? I can help you escape your fate, don't worry. Maybe I'm not reading the board right. _

_It's only a matter of time before we're reunited. We won't have to be alone any longer. _

_Love,_

_Ryou_

_

* * *

_It's like a lead weight that drops like an anchor to the bottom of Honda's stomach and doesn't let go. The black fog filling the room is suffocating, and he doesn't know where it's coming from—_the fireplace_, the still-somewhat-logical part of his brain tries to tell him, but he knows that can't be right—the temperature has dropped by at least ten degrees so suddenly, and Honda can't see Ryou anymore—

"Honda!" Ryou's voice calls out to him, but when the smoke clears all Honda can see is _more _dark-purple mist—_that doesn't make any sense_—and it's very clear that they're no longer in Ryou's room, but how can he have moved without any knowledge or feeling of moving?

He looks again and not one, but _two _white-haired men stand in front of him. The expression on Ryou's face is one of desperate hope, but as he catches Honda's gaze his own sears back like an apology. Honda doesn't know what's going on—above all, he wants to _know _what's happening.

"Interesting," the stranger—but not strange, next to Ryou—says. "I get two for the price of one, today. Must be my lucky day."

Both white hair, pale skin, both wearing white, but where Ryou's school uniform shirt looks wrinkled from the stress and hour the stranger's clothes look perfectly molded and creased, almost like armor—

"Let me introduce myself—I am _Death_," he says, spreading his arms wide, stretching each finger out to its limit. "And who might you be?"

"Ryou Bakura," Ryou answers first. His voice is shaking but his back is straight, and Honda can tell he doesn't want to even consider the possibility that he was wrong, that they failed—

"Bakura," the stranger repeats slowly. "I like it. I think I'll take it, thank you very much."

"…What?" Ryou glances around him, finally realizing as Honda has that the four walls have fallen away into a low, heavy fog, and the wooden floor has become an uneven, mossy soil. "Did you say…death?"

"It's _Bakura_ now," he corrects. "You summoned me—_why, _I wonder? Is _this_ what you were expecting? Were you expecting _me?_"

"Tell us where we are," Honda demands. "What's going on?"

"Oh." Bakura turns towards him, as though evaluating him for the first time. "I don't think I like you as much—but then again, I only need one of you."

"One of us for what?" Ryou asks softly.

"Tradition dictates I give you the opportunity to save yourselves." Bakura laughs. "We are in what I call the _Shadow Realm_—it's a world of darkness and despair. Once you are caught in it, it is nearly impossible to escape. You will learn _much_ about that after I have stolen your futures from you."

"What?" Honda can barely believe his ears as Bakura crosses over to the piano, slanted from the uneven ground, and taps a few keys. He spreads the Tarot cards out, and selects one at random. It is reversed.

"I suppose this is _you_, Magician," he comments, watching Ryou through heavily-lidded eyes. "Transformative potential—how very appropriate. With the Ouroboros about your waist you truly are halfway between worlds, eternal becoming—neither here nor there."

He sneers, drawing the next card. "And _you_—Justice? Strength? The Lovers?" He laughs. "No—you are truly the _Hanged Man_, are you not? The _sacrifice_." He glances at Ryou. "Had you actually known what you were doing, you would have required a sacrifice, would you not?"

"Ryou, what is he talking about?" Honda asks.

"I-I don't—I don't know—" Ryou stumbles backwards, brushing against the hard wood of the piano, the only piece of familiar architecture left from their original station. It's his connection between the worlds, his last connection to Amane—his sister who played the piano so beautifully, but it does not make music now—_Amane_, who they did all of this for, likely in vain—

"When you revive a _soul_, it has to have a body to attach itself to, correct?" Bakura laughs again, tilting his head back as he enjoys the sound. "How rich! Did you think she would _magically_ appear to you, dear Ryou? Fleeing _your _body, she would have attached herself to your companion's, there."

Honda glances between the two, watching Ryou's shocked expression. "I…didn't understand…"

"And now you must fight for your lives, or I will take them." Bakura's grin widens. "I do so love this part."

"Tell us what we have to do." Honda steps forward, next to Ryou. He is still not as tall as _Bakura_, but _he_—whatever he is—is not human, and this is definitely not Earth. This _Shadow Realm_, as he calls it—Honda cannot think of a more miserable, unfortunate place. To be stuck here, forever, as Bakura implies—Honda cannot think of a worse fate.

One comes to mind upon seeing the way Bakura's possessive gaze sweeps up Ryou's body—to be trapped here, alone—_that_ would be worse. Whatever it takes, Honda decides, he will protect Ryou from this _creature_.

"The game is quite simple," Bakura says. "You will attempt to find your way out of the Shadow Realm—anyone caught inside before daybreak will be _mine_. As I only need _one _of you, why not make this more of a challenge?" He stretches his arms before him, cracking his knuckles. "You may go first, dear Ryou."

Ryou waits as though paralyzed, seeking Honda's gaze before he nods, and Ryou takes off through the mist until the two remaining can no longer hear the patterns of his footsteps.

"What's this all about?" Honda asks sharply. "You mentioned that you wanted to '_steal our futures_.' What did you mean?"

"I meant what I said," Bakura answers. "I mean to escape from this _Death_"—he laughs to himself—"by substituting your existence with my own. Have you heard the story of the Boatman?"

"No." Honda doesn't particularly want to know, but Bakura seems to be in a telling mood, and if Honda can keep him talking then Ryou might have more time to run.

"You see, there once was a Boatman in charge of a ferry to cross a river. He ferried _souls_, you see, who had no physical presence of their own. One day, a _man_ comes to take the ferry. Well, the Boatman hands him the oar, steps off the other side, and the man becomes the new Boatman!"

Bakura laughs again. "For you see, _I am_ the Boatman! And our _dear _Ryou will soon be inheriting a lot more than his sister's legacy."

"You can't have him."

"Hmm. Possessive, are we? But you see, you have no other choice—_I _lost the previous game, just as the Boatman before me was destined to win. Even if you make it to the gate, however will you cross over without a Boatman?"

Honda stares off into the fog around them, wondering where Ryou is. "I don't know—you tell me."

"What a moral for the story to have." Bakura's shoulders shake as he laughs. "You should follow him—who knows how much time you'll have together? Unless…" he pauses, turning his own eyes, so much like Ryou's, to Honda.

"…Unless, of course, you'd like to make a deal with me."

"A deal, with you? With _Death?_ Not on your life." Only after he finishes the words does he realize how out-of-place the joke is.

Bakura shrugs lazily. "Are you sure? If you ensure that our Ryou is captured, I'll make sure you survive. A life for a life is fair, is it not?"

Honda's jaw loosens in shock and it makes him feels sick. He would _never_ do such a thing. "He will never be yours."

"So you say. Think quickly, now. You don't have much time before dear Ryou is lost among the graves."

* * *

Ryou stumbles as he makes his way through the heart of the Shadow Realm, his shoes catching on exposed roots and slipping over the slick covering of grasses and mosses on the soft dirt. Every so often he steps on a flat piece of stone, wedged into the ground; some are cracked, others eroded from time or weather. He can't see very far in any direction, so he wonders whether he is headed in the right direction—the vast field seems oddly gridded and partitioned, and walking in a straight line is hardly difficult.

Thin trees cluster together every so often, and Ryou leans against one as he pauses to catch his breath, listening over the sound of his deep breathing for any sign of Honda.

He never meant for any of this to happen. He never meant for it to go so far—not like this. It never occurred to him that he wasn't summoning Amane at all; he was summoning…_him_…

He deserves this fate, for his failure. How could the ritual have gone so horribly wrong…he should have given it more time, he should have found another way. Ryou knows that this mistake carries a deadly cost. He is not prepared to never see his sister again. He is not prepared to never see Honda again.

_It's all my fault. All my fault. I deserve this—I deserve this—_

A dozen steps later and Ryou trips, falling to his knees on a slab of rough stone. He glances down, swiping his fingers along the edges of it to clear the dirt from its surface, revealing dark lines painted into the carvedstone. He traces the lines with his eyes, stiffening as he watches the elegant form of a woman holding a staff, half darkened in shadows. The detail is exquisite.

Ryou glances to his left, then to his right. Similar stones rest in lines as far as he can see, spaced equally apart. For endless rows there is nothing but closed graves, and their markers. This is a cemetery—he has been running through a graveyard. Nothing but graves surrounds him—the dead surrounds him. He is kneeling on a grave.

Horrified, Ryou screams.

* * *

Honda stops instantly, drawn to the place far down the field to his right where he heard the scream.

_No—Not Ryou! Let him be alright—I've got to find him!_

He is sure he's never run so hard in his life, but Ryou just _doesn't stop screaming_ and Honda can finally see him, huddled with his arms wrapped around his head, eyes wide and unblinking. Honda doesn't think—he runs to Ryou, silencing him in one single motion by grabbing his arms and pulling him up, locking his eyes to Ryou's.

"_Look at me. Only _me, Ryou—don't look at anything else. We're going to get through this. Everything is going to be okay." Honda doesn't think he's ever spoken such hollow words in his life, but he wants nothing more in that moment than to comfort and reassure Ryou.

"Don't lie to me," he whispers.

Honda pulls back yet his fingers tighten on Ryou's arms. "Do you want the truth? Don't lie to _yourself_, Ryou! Amane _isn't coming back_. She's _dead_. I'm not quite sure where we are or what exactly is going on, but I know that the only chance we have is to _win _this—whatever it is. We _can't _do that by giving in—I won't let you give in, Ryou."

"No." Ryou shakes his head. "She's not—we're not—you're not—"

"Ryou," Honda repeats, moving his hands to grasp the sides of Ryou's head, holding him in place. "You have to think about yourself now. Snap out of it. _Look at me_."

Slowly, Ryou stops struggling, and Honda removes his hands, letting them drop to his side. "Let's go."

Ryou stands on shaky feet, and the two move back to the main path, glancing in either direction.

"We have to get to the Gate," Honda says. "If we pass it, we win."

"Winning is good," Ryou agrees, quietly. "Which way is the Gate?"

"That way." Honda points straight ahead, at a wide, well-trodden lane past several rows of filled graves.

"How do you know that?" Ryou asks.

"Because Bakura told me."

* * *

The two run down the pathway as quickly as they can. Ryou's eyes have begun to glaze over, and Honda can tell that the adrenaline first keeping them going is starting to wear off, leaving them shaky and disoriented. They step over a stone cracked into fragments, and Honda pockets a chunk of the dark, heavy material. They are reaching what looks like the end of the row, but neither of them can see the cemetery's gates.

"Daybreak." Ryou coughs as he tries to catch his voice. "How far away is that?"

"I don't know," Honda answers. "This…doesn't look like the exit."

"You said _Bakura_"—Ryou says the name with disgust—"told you this was the way out." He turns towards Honda. "Why would he tell you that?"

Honda looks away for a moment. "Because he wanted me to turn on you. I got him to give me information by pretending to go along with him, to help us escape…together."

Ryou stops him with a hand to his shoulder. "Honda." Ryou's eyes are serious. "Bakura is the chief architect of this game—what lengths would he go to in order to win?" He pauses. "What made you think he was telling the truth?"

They have reached the end of the row; the last two headstones look newer, with the dirt before the open graves newly turned. They are surrounded by the remnants of nature—mosses and tall grass seem to grow into the stone, and a few of the thin, petrified trees grow up out of the distance. The dirt road stops at their feet.

"What do we do now?" Honda asks.

"_Come out, come out, wherever you are!"_

Honda's blood turns to ice as Bakura's voice rings out in the hollow emptiness. In that moment Ryou tackles him, sending them both falling into the open grave. Ryou lies on top of him, his head pressed to Honda's chest, his own hands tightly pressed against his mouth. Honda can hear his own heartbeat in his ears and the sound is overwhelming even to him, but Ryou finds one of his hands in the semi-darkness and squeezes it. With each movement of theirs the carefully-built walls of the grave start to crumble slightly, sending small streams of dirt and gravel to fall upon their clothes and skin. Ryou moves closer to whisper in Honda's ear:

"He didn't see us, but he can't be far. What are we going to do?"

Honda looks up to see the image of a twisted, muscled monster carved into the stone, his arms raised towards the sky. Ryou shifts his weight, muttering an apology as his elbow hits Honda's.

"I don't know," Honda whispers back. "Bakura doesn't know we're together—I mean, that we're both here. Together. I can draw him out and give you time to run."

Ryou stiffens, and Honda can see his eyes in the dim pocket of light. "You don't need to be the hero, Honda. Let me save you for a change."

"_I know you're hiding somewhere, Hanged Man! Do come out and find me, before I find you!_"

"You already did, Ryou." Bakura sounds much closer now, and Honda lowers his voice further to compensate. "He doesn't care about me—he wants _you_."

"But so do I." Ryou's voice is soft, almost like a whine. If Honda's heart hadn't been beating so heavily from anxiety, it might have stopped completely at those words. "Ryou…"

"I'll draw him away from here. You need to run in the opposite direction—I'm sure that the Gate is that way." Honda curses himself now for falling into Bakura's trap so soundly, but they don't have the time. Their time is already borrowed as it is, and the moment has come to repay their loan. Honda will make up the difference.

"No, don't—" Ryou begins, but Honda interrupts him.

"I don't have the time for this." Soundly, he leans forward, pressing his lips to Ryou's. Honda closes his eyes, and he can almost believe that they are anywhere but there, lying together inside an open grave.

"_Am I getting closer, Hanged Man?"_

Honda breaks the kiss and swears. He feels tentative fingertips on his jawline, and turns his face back towards Ryou's. "When it's safe—run."

"It's never safe," Ryou answers. "I'm only safe when I'm with you. I never got a chance to tell you—I'm so sorry. For everything."

"Not for _that_, I hope," Honda says with satisfaction. "Or for this." He kisses Ryou again. "Don't stop running. I'll be right behind you."

"Don't—" Ryou begins, but with one fluid motion Honda pulls Ryou underneath him to the back of the grave before standing up cautiously. He pulls himself out of the hollow and darts off without looking back. Ryou waits, listening for any hint of either of their voices, missing the feel of Honda's touch now that he knows what it is like to go without it.

* * *

"Bakura!" Honda successfully manages to double around so that he can approach Bakura with his back to Ryou's hiding spot. "I should have known you wouldn't play fair."

The Boatman's face divided into a wide grin behind perceptive eyes. "You should have, indeed. Yet you fell for it anyway."

Honda frowned—he had to keep Bakura talking. "What's so great about Ryou, to you? Don't you think _I'd _make a good sacrifice, too?"

Bakura spoke through his grin. "I'm sure you can answer the first question better than I. And as for the second, of course you would. There's no such thing as a bad sacrifice." Gleaming, even teeth behind thin lips—Bakura's laugh is as familiar to Honda as it is hated.

"Tell me," Honda says, "about _you_. What made you the Boatman? What did you do?" Honda amends his question: "Who did you try to summon?"

Bakura's grin turns into a snarl as he shoves Honda backwards so quickly that he barely notices until his back hits one of the spindly, bone-like trees with an audible snap. The twigs shatter like glass, and Honda pulls himself to his feet—he is not surprised by Bakura's reaction, only that he was able to move as fast as he did.

"What happened, Bakura? Was it like _this?_" He sees Ryou running away behind him, and Honda clenches his hands into fists, shifting his eyes to stare into Bakura's. "The game is unwinnable by default. You never had a chance."

"As did you," Bakura responds tightly. "The prior Boatman acted much the same—we've all had so long to practice our art that we turn out rather similar, in the end. And I pleaded, but he could not be moved. The Devil's Tower is even more unmovable than this cemetery, fool. There is no hope for you—you should have realized this long ago."

"It's true. I'm no good at games," Honda says. "But I'm like you, see—I don't play by the rules, either." Out of his jacket pocket comes the fractured piece of stone, and he swipes his hand towards Bakura's head, catching him by his right ear with the heavy rock. Bakura's last expression is one of surprise before he slumps to the ground, and Honda immediately drops the stone, turns on his heel, and runs as fast as he can towards where he hopes Ryou, and the Gate, both are.

* * *

Ryou sees it like the monument it is—the wrought-iron fence is dented and rusted in parts, but it still stretches to at least double his height, the weighty posts half-buried in the ground. A dull padlock hangs from a small metal loop on the right door, yet the Gate is open, as if waiting for him.

He pauses before the threshold, marveling at the difference. Behind him stretches an innumerable amount of graves and gravestones, all memorials to different lost or conquered spirits, and on the other side of the Gate he can see a much clearer path lined by tall grasses. Real nature, real life—that's what waits beyond this realm.

Ryou knows this, but all he can think about is Honda. He reaches out and grasps one of the door's bars, feeling the metal beneath his fingers. The bars are wide, and he could stick his hand through one of them with no problem, if he wanted to. It feels just like it should, cold and rough from the peeling paint, but he knows it is anything but as simple as it appears.

He turns, ready to see Honda arrive over the edge of the field at any moment. It doesn't matter what Honda has told him—Ryou wishes, above all else, to see Honda running down the central pathway…but if he were just given one more chance, he could try again, _he could get it right this time_—

Ryou remembers how hard it was to ask Honda that first question…but then Honda kept surprising him, and before he knew it he was laughing again, and smiling again, and forgetting…

Ryou doesn't want to forget. He wants Honda, and he wants Amane back, and he knows that if he can only try again, he'll get it right this time…it is his fault, his mistake. He _failed_—but not next time. He can do it, he knows this. The Gate is right here.

Shaking fingers tighten around the cracked metal bars.

* * *

_One, two, three, four…_

Honda counts each step as he runs; it helps to keep his mind focused and clear.

_Thirteen, fourteen…_

He can see the wall, now, and an immense, crumbling monument as its Gate, with a small, white-haired figure standing before it. Waiting.

_Two-hundred and seven, two-hundred and eight_…

His lungs burn from the expended effort, and now that he can finally see his destination his legs lock and stiffen, their lead weight pulling him down, making him slow. Ryou seems to be looking at him and at the Gate at once.

Honda reaches Ryou and stops, breathless from the exertion. It becomes physically impossible to move even one more step. "Ryou…"

"Let me help you." Ryou rushes to his side, but Honda throws out an arm, preventing him from moving any further. "Stop." It comes out as a wheeze, but Ryou complies as they both turn to stare at Bakura, walking towards them from the North-facing wall. His walk is calm, but his expression is livid.

"_Leaving so soon?_" With each word he takes another step. Honda purposefully moves in-between them, but Bakura comes no closer than a few meters. "I suppose you still think you can win? Have you figured it out yet, Hanged Man?"

"I won't let you—"

"You really haven't figured it out yet?" Bakura laughs. "_There is nothing you can do_. You asked me a question, Hanged Man, and I turn it back on you—who were you trying to summon?"

It is Ryou who answers. "My sister, Amane. I want her back."

Bakura turns to Ryou with a complacent sneer. "Then tell me this—why are you looking for her_ here_, when your Amane is in heaven?"

Honda _feels _it as Ryou's body begins to shake, and it barely registers to him when he grabs Ryou by his shirt collar, rips open the Gate doors, and shoves him across the threshold.

"_Honda–!_"

He slams the doors closed just as quickly, grasping the padlock and twisting it closed behind Ryou with both hands.

"You're _safe_, Ryou—"

"—_open this door! Open it right now—"_

Bakura's gleeful laugh echoes as Ryou sticks an arm through to grasp Honda's own. Honda leans as close as he can to the gateway and kisses Ryou through the gap in the bars.

"_Daybreak is upon us, and the passage requires a boatman!_"

"Stay with me—" Ryou is hysterical now. "You promised you would stay with me and I promised I'd never leave you—"

"I'll come back for you!"

Ryou shakes on the doors with all his might, but they do not budge. He can see the light, but he can't see Honda. Ryou doesn't understand why.

"_You promised…you promised…"_

_

* * *

_When Ryou wakes up he is lying on the floor in his room, alone, surrounded by sheets of snow-white paper with thin, bunched handwriting in black ink. A window is open.

It takes Ryou some time to remember why he's on the floor in the first place and who he was with. He can't remember if he was dreaming or if it was real. He thinks he might be dreaming now. Sometimes it's much better than being awake.

* * *

The next day Honda is waiting for him at his locker. "May I ask you a question, Ryou?"

"Sure," he replies.

"Do you think the dead can come back to life?"

**End.**

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Footnotes:

1) Each of the main characters is represented by a corresponding Tarot card. Honda is the Hanged Man, Ryou is the Magician, Amane is Temperance, Bakura is Death, and it is implied that Zorc is the Devil. It is also implied that the person Bakura lost to (the prior Boatman) was Zorc. The Hanged Man is the 13th card in the deck—the Eliot poem referenced also mentions the Hanged Man.

2) The "Boatman" tale is inspired by the fairy tale "The Devil with the Three Golden Hairs." A ferryman transports people across a river, until he is told that all he has to do to go free is to put his oar into someone else's hands.

3) I know next to nothing about Tarot, but I indirectly reference two different three-card spreads (the first is Death, the Magician, and the Hanged Man, and the second is the Devil, the Tower, and Death). It was purposeful not to include whatever 'ritual' Ryou and Honda did to summon Bakura…I think it works better in the reader's imaginations than if I had written something improbable. I'm also not trying to make a statement by my portrayal of these occult themes—this is only for the story and is not in any way my personal opinion on these matters.

4) The setting is directly the same as in _Slash and Burn_, although it's not the same Bakura (because there's so many of them running around! xD). The ending is purposefully up to your interpretation...you decide what really happened to Honda. =)

5) I would appreciate and value your comments. Please review! Thank you for reading.

~Jess


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